


Line of Fire

by Candy_A



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Series: New Beginnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:34:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candy_A/pseuds/Candy_A
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A crisis threatens Jim and Blair's happiness<br/>This story is a sequel to Today.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Line of Fire

**Author's Note:**

> For those who were interested in seeing more on Dad Ellison, he's back again in this installment.

## Line of Fire

by Candy Apple

Author's disclaimer: Pet Fly & UPN own the guys and The Sentinel. No money being made.

* * *

Line Of Fire  
by Candy Apple 

"You've got some world class knots in there, Jim," Blair opined as he massaged Jim's shoulders. Both men were naked, and Jim had stretched out on his stomach on the bed while his partner sat astride his buttocks on the pretext of giving a massage. 

"You know, Chief, this massage thing is really nice, but I would think you could come up with something better to loosen while you're back there." 

"This is supposed to be therapeutic, Jim-- _relaxing_ , not _erotic_." 

"Then why's your naked crotch riding my naked ass?" Jim challenged, grinning over his shoulder at Blair. "And I guarantee you, if you'd lose your obsession with my shoulders and drill me through the mattress, I'd be a hell of a lot more relaxed when you were done." _That_ stilled the massaging hands. Jim shifted a little, thrusting upward a couple of times, bouncing Blair with the motion of his body. 

"Anything to make you happy, lover," Blair whispered hotly in Jim's ear. The smaller man's erection was poking Jim in the back as Blair stretched out on top of him, kissing and nibbling at the neck and shoulders he'd been massaging. "Love you," Blair muttered against Jim's skin as he trailed wet kisses down the long spine. He paused teasingly at the tailbone, kissing and nibbling there. He grinned evilly when Jim finally got restless and spread his legs, giving Blair the message that he was ready for more. 

Kneeling between the long, muscular thighs, Blair ran his hands up and down the soft flesh there. The movement of the impressive system of muscles in Jim's back and shoulders caught Blair's attention as his lover looked over his shoulder to see what exactly it was that Blair was doing, and why he wasn't feeling pleasure from it. 

"Zone out, Chief?" he asked. 

"I was just checking out the territory." Blair leaned up to whisper in Jim's ear again. " _My_ territory." With that, Blair slid back down and grasped the firm globes of Jim's ass, pulling them gently apart to expose his center. He leaned forward and ran his tongue in one long pass between the fleshy mounds and over the little pucker, then returned to tease the opening with his tongue. 

"Oh, man," Jim groaned, thrusting back into the invader, but finding it elusive. 

"Stay still, baby. This is my show tonight," Blair ordered, returning to his project of teasing Jim's center with just the tip of his tongue. His hands kneaded and massaged his lover's buttocks, finally taking mercy on him and sinking his tongue past the ring of muscle. 

"God, Blair...more..." 

"Oh, there's gonna be more, lover." Blair snagged the lube from the dresser drawer and coating his fingers, slid one long digit into Jim in one slow, gentle motion. 

"Oh yeah," Jim grunted, moving his ass in almost a rotating motion, not unlike the motion of Blair's finger inside him. Seeing how his partner was enjoying himself, Blair withdrew the first finger and returned with two, picturing sinking his hard length to the hilt inside the hot little tunnel he was preparing. 

"You want it bad, don't you, lover?" Blair teased, stretching and massaging Jim as he spoke. 

"Yeah...come on, baby, do it..." 

"You know the drill, man. One more finger. No stinting on the stretching, lover. Be a good boy and learn a little control," Blair admonished, kissing and licking at one smooth cheek while he worked three fingers inside Jim. Finally, he withdrew them and moved up one final time to whisper in Jim's ear. "Love you, babe. Gonna make it good for you, beautiful man." 

As soon as Blair moved off Jim's back, the other man drew his knees up under himself, presenting Blair with an open, willing, easy target. Hands working quickly and lightly to coat himself with lube, Blair rose up on his knees and lined himself up with Jim's center, pushing gently against the resistance there. When he was just inside, Jim let out a little groan. 

"Relax, lover. Remember to breathe, and push down." Blair waited, and finally felt a little loosening of the iron grip in which a small part of his cock was trapped. He slid a bit farther into what seemed like impossible tightness. Jim didn't seem to enjoy being on the receiving end all that often, and since Blair did enjoy it, this dance was usually reversed. 

"Come on, Chief...a little more," Jim managed, thrusting back carefully against Blair. The younger man eased himself in further, and finally, found himself flush with Jim's buttocks. 

"God, you feel so good, lover," Blair panted, not really feeling like talking, but wanting to relax Jim and get him in the mood to enjoy their union. He knew his voice had a calming effect on his lover. "Love you," he whispered, then moved slowly back and pushed forward again. Jim groaned his approval and rose up on his hands and knees, forcing Blair to do a little quick repositioning. 

"Move, sweetheart." With a firm backward thrust, Jim made it clear he was really ready. Grasping onto Jim's sides for balance, Blair started a steady, pumping rhythm, angling his strokes to hit Jim's prostate, dragging howl after howl of pleasure out of his normally reserved partner. "Oh, yeah, that's it...come on, baby, give it to me," Jim goaded, meeting every one of Blair's thrusts with equal force and then some. 

"Oh, Jim...Oh my God...ugh...yeah..." Blair panted, thrusting into the tight heat again and again, moaning almost steadily with the motion. Belatedly, he remembered to wrap a hand around Jim's straining erection, massaging and stroking it in time with their sex. Leaning on Jim's back while he thrust in and out of the larger man in a steady rhythm, he freed his second hand to cup and fondle the heavy balls. Jim gave up on his hands and knees and dropped to his elbows, opening himself as much as he could to the driving rhythm of Blair's cock as it massaged his prostate. 

Blair felt the internal muscles clamp down around him, and heard Jim's outcry just as his completion bathed Blair's hand and the bed beneath them. Blair's own climax wasn't far behind, and soon both men slumped in a boneless mass on the bed, still joined. 

"Are you okay?" Blair asked quietly, planting little kisses on Jim's damp back. 

"Oh yeah," Jim responded, smiling contentedly. 

"You're never going to know how gorgeous you are," Blair breathed against Jim's neck. "You're like a work of art." He ran a hand reverently over one large, muscled shoulder and arm. 

"If I'm a work of art, the painter missed a couple spots on top," Jim joked. 

"I'm serious, man." Blair slid his fingers into the soft, silky hair in question. "You've got a couple thin spots, but you're far from losing it fully anywhere important," he opined, carding his fingers through Jim's hair. 

As Blair carefully withdrew from Jim's body, they changed positions so they could face each other. Jim claimed Blair's mouth for lengthy, wet explorations as their bodies twined around each other and Jim's hands came to rest on Blair's ass, kneading the cheeks possessively. 

"Oh, man. Keep doing that, and you're going to get the motor running again. 

"Really?" Jim asked conversationally, still massaging the fleshy globes in his hands. Smiling at Blair's aroused little grunt, Jim kept it up, letting his fingers slide down toward the crack. With a whimper of need, Blair wriggled back on the feather light brushes of Jim's fingers near his center. "Turn over, baby. Let me play with you a little, huh?" 

"Please..." Blair rolled over willingly, sprawling on his stomach and spreading his legs. Getting his second wind, Jim moved to kneel between his lover's legs, located the lube amidst the rumpled bedclothes, and coated just his thumbs. Leaning forward, he parted Blair's cheeks and massaged the little pucker with his thumb. After letting Blair become complacent with the motion, almost relaxed by it, Jim leaned in close to the other man's ear. 

"You're gonna get a finger-fucking you won't forget, baby," Jim breathed against Blair's ear, knowing how hot just the words made his lover. He'd found he could drive Blair to climax with his fingers, and he was going to try to duplicate that success. 

"God, Jim, feels good..." Blair thrust down against the teasing thumb, which was joined by its slippery mate in just rubbing Blair's entrance. Coating his index finger, he slid it into Blair all the way to the base. "Aaahhh," Blair gasped, partly in surprise, partly in approval as the finger began rubbing his internal walls. 

Jim took his time waggling and turning the finger, smiling as Blair started grinding down against the mattress and bearing down on the invading finger in a sort of desperate rhythm. Jim pulled the first finger out and then slid two back in its place. Scissoring them boldly, he continued massaging Blair from the inside out. 

"You like that, baby? You like my fingers in your ass?" 

"Oh, Jim...more..." 

"More's coming." Jim found Blair's prostate and brushed it, loving the spectacle of that beautiful, sweat-dampened body arching, snapping damp hair over his back as he tossed his head. Blair raised up on his knees, thighs still spread wide, chest on the mattress. His whole body moved with Jim's fingers, letting out little cries of pleasure when his prostate was stimulated. "God, do you know how hot you look, all spread open for me?" Jim made the pace of his fingers rapid and forceful. "Tell me what you want, baby." 

"You...Oh, God, Jim, wanna get fucked...want you in me..." 

"Try this, baby." Jim pulled the two fingers out and inserted three, constantly rubbing over Blair's prostate, smiling at the broken screams from his partner. They were both getting hard again, and a few more minutes of this kind of play would have him ready to give Blair the real thing. 

"Jim...ooooohhh, that feels gooooood...aaah!" Blair clutched a pillow beneath his head and chest like a lifeline, his ass spread open and writhing shamelessly with the pleasure of Jim's moving fingers. "Please...ooooohhh...Jim...want it..." 

Jim reached under his lover with his free hand and pumped the engorged cock there, making Blair scream out at the dual sensation. Feeling himself reaching peak hardness, Jim abandoned Blair's cock and coated his own quickly with a sheen of the lube. Then, he pulled his fingers out and slid his cock carefully in immediately in their wake. Blair let out a startled scream and a strangled "Ooooo, yeah..." 

"Do me, Jim...so good...oh yeah..." The younger man finally rallied to grab the railing behind the bed, thrusting back at Jim as hard as Jim was thrusting forward until they had a firm but comfortable rhythm going, the steady rubbing of Blair's prostate making the pleasure almost unbearable. 

"God, Chief...you're so fucking...gorgeous... Love watching...your ass..." Jim grunted out, speeding up his thrusts. 

"Yeah, like that...oh, God, Jiiiim..." Blair stiffened out and with Jim milking him, sprayed his completion. The wild clamping and fluttering of Blair's internal muscles pulled Jim's second climax of the night out of his almost resistant body with a hoarse shout of Blair's name. As they collapsed, Jim maneuvered them, spoon style, still joined. 

"So good, man," Blair panted, still fighting to catch his breath. 

"I was going to work out in the morning, but I could probably skip that now," Jim sighed, smiling as he rested his cheek against warm curls and kissed Blair's shoulder. 

"I've heard of calling someone a great piece of ass before, but never a great piece of exercise equipment," Blair quipped. Jim laughed out loud. 

"Beats the shit out of the rowing machine, I can tell you that," he responded, still chortling. 

"Rowing machine, hell. You were _pumping iron_ tonight, man," Blair corrected, then yawned widely. Jim took that as his cue and eased out of Blair, tucking the covers around them. 

"Everything okay?" Jim kissed Blair's neck. 

"You know it is, lover." Blair snuggled back against Jim, twisting his head enough so they could share an awkward kiss. "You're always careful with me...and I'm always relaxed with you." Blair paused. "Are you sure _you're_ okay?" 

"Positive," Jim responded. "Tonight was pretty special, huh?" Jim asked, letting his hand stroke over Blair's chest in a purely affectionate motion, avoiding too much emphasis on the sensitive nipples. He wasn't up to a third round, and judging by the lethargy in Blair's muscles, neither was he. "Both ways." 

"Mmmm," Blair added eloquently, reliving in his mind the panorama of physical delights they'd shared. He wriggled a little, savoring the slight tenderness he felt. And his mind traveled back to the feeling of his cock milked and pumped inside Jim's hot, tight passage... 

"Hey, settle down there, Darwin," Jim admonished, patting Blair's thigh. "Morning comes early, you know." 

"Get some rest, lover. Because I do too, remember?" 

Jim took a moment to compute that phrase, and then chuckled, reaching down to swat Blair's butt. 

"Smart ass." He pulled Blair tightly against him and relaxed into sleep. 

* * *

"Oh.My.God." 

The three horrified words jerked Jim out of his slumber. His partner was sitting up in bed, looking panicked. 

"What's wrong, Chief?" 

"What's wrong. What's _wrong_??? Have you looked at the clock?" 

"My eyes were closed and it's behind me, baby. What do you think?" Jim snapped irritably, rubbing his eyes and turning to see what had Blair all in a tither. "Oh, shit." The digital proclaimed that it was nine o'clock. 

"Did you shut off the alarm?" Blair asked, pulling rumpled hair back from his face. The room and Blair reeked of their sex, and he was sitting up in bed, unconcerned that the sheets were down to his thighs from the sudden movement. A partial morning erection was standing there shamelessly, not caring that they were both an hour late for work and hadn't even gotten out of bed yet. Jim's own twitched at the sight, apparently figuring there were better things to do with life than get ready for work. 

"I woke up once about five. I was going to love you awake, and...I guess I fell asleep again. I turned off the alarm because I didn't want it going off while we were..." Jim shrugged. 

"We need a honeymoon," Blair announced, falling back on the bed with a thud. 

"How about a week at the cabin where we take enough supplies not to see the outside world until it's time to come home?" 

"Oh, man, that sounds good." Blair sighed. "Guess we'll have to settle for the weekend. Your dad called yesterday and said that a friend of his who is re-decorating his office suite was willing to donate some furniture for the Victim Advocacy Unit. I guess it's really nice stuff. I'm supposed to go over and take a look at it. You wanna come? I was going to tell you about it last night, while I was giving you the massage, but I, uh, forgot." Blair grinned mischievously. 

"It doesn't bother you that he's butting in on your project? I can say something to him if he oversteps his bounds." 

"He's not butting in. Jim, we've _got no furniture_. All the department has to offer are a couple of desks that have really seen better days, and do you know what kind of computer they're going to give us--and yes, Jim, that's singular-- _one_ computer. It's a fucking 386!! I think Noah kept his personnel records on the Ark on this one. I could work faster with a fist hatchet and a fresh supply of rocks." 

"Don't let Warren hear you say that," Jim replied, snorting a little laugh. 

"Your dad knows a bunch of old rich guys. If some of them want to part with stuff they consider 'outdated' or 'used', it's going to be a lot better than the best I can get out of the Department. This is for the good of the new unit, Jim. It would be counterproductive for me to turn it down. No, I wouldn't want him dictating policy or getting overly involved in the running of things, but when it comes to raising money and finding some decent stuff to get the office equipped, I need the help." 

"Okay. I just don't want you to feel that you have to put up with him telling you what to do." Jim pulled himself up to sit. "I better call Simon." 

"And you're going to say...?" Blair shrugged. "We used car trouble last week when things got too interesting the shower." 

"We've only been late twice. You make it sound like we do this every morning." 

"We _do_ do this every morning. We just usually aren't late because of it." 

"Point made." Jim hauled himself out of bed and then looked over his shoulder at Blair, who was watching his naked lover with completely undisguised lust. "Sandburg." 

"Sorry, man." 

"Oh, fuck it. We're late anyway." Jim dove back onto the bed and pounced on Blair, dragging him back flat on the bed, plundering his mouth passionately. It didn't take Blair long to line up their hardening lengths and start them rocking together. 

"Love you, Jim," Blair said softly, wrapping his arms around his lover, starting to let out the little grunts of pleasure at their movements. 

"Love you too, sweetheart. More than anything." Jim covered the moist lips again with his. 

"Can we have lunch together?" Blair ground out, throwing his head back on the bed as their tempo picked up. 

"Oh, man," Jim let out a strangled laugh as he felt his own climax coming fast. With mingled cries, they came together, and shared the afterglow with long, lazy kisses. 

"I was serious about lunch." Blair said, pulling back long enough to look Jim in the eyes. "I don't like us being apart all day. I don't know why...I just don't today." 

"I never like being separated from you." Jim pulled Blair into a tight embrace, stroking his back. 

"I mean it, Jim. Meet me for lunch at WonderBurger. My treat." 

"Blair, what's wrong?" Jim moved back, and pushed Blair's hair back from his face gently. 

"I don't know. I just wish I didn't have to go see that stupid furniture and that you had the day off." 

"I don't know how much luck I'll have with lunch, but we'll say one o'clock, and I'll do my best. If I'm not there by 1:30, grab something for yourself and we'll just plan on doing something special tonight, okay?" 

"Okay," Blair responded, smiling and snuggling into Jim's arms. "I love you." 

"I love you too, Chief. You're sure everything's okay?" 

"Yeah. I just know I'm gonna miss you all day." 

"We'll make up for it later. I better go call Simon. And you stay up here while I take a shower. I don't need any company, got it?" Jim admonished gently, kissing the end of Blair's nose as he got out of bed. 

"I thought you liked it when I joined you in the shower." 

"I do. Way too much. I can't meet you for lunch unless I actually do some work this morning." Jim chuckled a little as he headed downstairs, still a bit disconcerted by Blair's reluctance to let him go. 

* * *

"This is really beautiful stuff, Bill. I can't believe he's willing to give it away." Blair ran his hand along the edge of the oak conference table. "I wish we had a place to put this." 

"Maybe there'd be room in that big open office--the front office." 

"There's room, but it's too...intimidating." Blair wandered around the storage room to the overstuffed chairs with their soft, muted tones of blue, lavender and green. "This is the kind of stuff I want there--stuff where people can sit more like they're sitting in a living room and chatting than coming to a meeting. I'm thinking one half of the room would have this stuff in it, and the other half would have the secretary's desk and--" Blair shook his head. "That's not right either. I need a place to work, but if I put a desk in that private office, it's still going to be like an... _office_ and if someone needs to talk privately..." 

"We could take a couple of those partitions right there and make a workspace for you in the front office, behind the secretary's desk. In the front office you could have a couple of those smaller chairs there," he pointed to a pair of chairs with the same attractive upholstery, but which were a straighter style, more like waiting room chairs. "That way, people could come in, be greeted, take a seat to wait if they had to, and then you could take them into the private office where you'd have this stuff set up--the overstuffed chairs, a couple nice end tables, a couple lamps--" 

"Some really nice, warm decorations on the walls so it seemed less sterile, and maybe that small table and four chairs there in one corner in case there was something we needed to spread out, or I could have small meetings in there." 

"Sounds like a good idea. Now you'd have room for this workcenter right here to go behind a couple of partitions," Bill opined, moving toward a large combination computer desk and credenza in the same oak finish as the too-large conference table. 

* * *

Jim checked his watch. It was almost one now, and he'd just made it to the truck. Simon having a late lunch with a couple members of the brass had been a lucky break. While they were friends, Jim didn't really wish to take advantage of that by not only coming in late, but then taking a full--and probably long--lunch hour. Blair's insistence on lunch, and his reluctance to even let Jim out of his clutches--literally--unnerved Jim more than a little as he headed out into the traffic. Blair wasn't clingy and demanding by nature, and if he suddenly became that way, it probably meant something wasn't right. 

Just then, the radio crackled to life. A silent alarm had gone off at Simmons Jewelers downtown. Jim was only a few blocks away. Cursing under his breath and kissing his lunch plans goodbye, he responded to the call. 

* * *

"Wonder what's going on down there?" Bill frowned as the two men walked out on the sidewalk from the lobby of the office building where they had been looking at the furniture. Sirens were blaring, a panorama of flashers and police lights were spread across the street about two blocks up from where they stood. 

"Oh, my God." And with that, Blair took off on a dead run down the sidewalk. 

"Blair!! The car's faster! Come on." Bill got into the Cadillac and gunned the engine, and Blair leaped into the passenger seat, closing his door as the older man peeled into traffic with a squeal of tires, leaving a few motorists cursing and honking in his wake. //Guess it's genetic,// Blair thought absurdly, his mind darting around frantically. The presence of cop cars and two ambulances wasn't automatically any indication of a problem with Jim. He wasn't necessarily even there. Still, Blair felt the cold fingers of dread wrapping themselves around his throat. 

"That's Jim's truck!" Blair shouted as they passed the pick up, which was parked a good half a block from the action. 

"Dammit," Bill muttered, bringing the Cadillac to a stop at the direction of a cop that was flagging traffic away. He lowered the driver's window. 

"I'm sorry, sir, you'll have to take Federal Street. We're re-routing-" 

"My son is involved in this--Detective Ellison." 

"Jim's my partner," Blair spoke up. "What happened?" Blair held up his ID for the skeptical patrolman. 

"All I know is that there was a robbery at the jewelers, and some gunfire, and we've been told to re-route traffic." 

"Anyone hurt?" 

"Well, there's someone in the one ambulance, and they were working on a guy on the sidewalk, but I don't know if he was a perp or a cop. I didn't get close enough. I do know we got an officer down call." 

"Shit." Blair got out of the car and raced up to the scene, easily dodging anyone who might have gotten in his way, fastening his ID badge on the pocket of the blue shirt he was wearing. "JIM!!" he called out as he saw the EMT's pulling the gurney up to its full height to wheel it to the ambulance. 

"Blair, wait!" Simon's voice came just moments before arms like steel bands locked around Blair from behind and pulled him back from interfering with the EMT's or the gurney. "Blair, he's alive, but he's been shot. Now let them do their work." 

"I want to ride with him," Blair protested, trying to break free. 

"You know how cramped it is in an ambulance. They need to be able to reach Jim to work on him without stepping over you. I'll drive you to the hospital, lights and siren." 

"What's happening?" Jim's father joined them just as Blair quit fighting Simon sufficiently that the larger man let go of him. 

"Jim's...been shot," Blair explained, finding that the words stuck in his throat. "I knew something was going to happen today... I knew it." 

"I'll drive you both to the hospital. Come with me," Simon directed, hurrying toward his car. The other two men followed closely behind him. 

"How bad is it?" Blair asked grimly from his seat in the back of Simon's car as they sped toward the hospital. Jim's father sat in the passenger seat, silent, with a solemn look on his face. 

"I'm not sure, Blair," Simon spared him a quick glance in the rearview mirror, then turned his full attention back to the road. "They were working on him when I got there. I know they didn't lose him, because they weren't ever trying to revive him. He was breathing on his own. I think the injury was in the upper body, judging by where they seemed to be working." 

"What was he doing there? I thought he was a detective--I didn't think he was... _on call_ like this," Bill stated, the strain obvious in his voice. 

"He was closest to the scene. It was an armed robbery with innocent bystanders involved--there were customers in the jewelry store when it was robbed. Jim responded to the call. While he isn't in a patrol car, he is still expected to respond if he's in the area." 

Simon pulled up to the emergency entrance just as the ambulance opened and the EMT's were met by the hospital staff to take the gurney inside. Blair was out of the car in a flash, finally catching up with the gurney as it was wheeled toward an examining room. To Blair's delight, Jim's eyes fluttered open and fixed on him as he ran alongside the moving bed. 

"I'm here, Jim." He made a successful attempt at patting Jim's hand before they wheeled him into an examining room and informed Blair he'd have to wait outside. 

By the time Simon and Bill joined him in the waiting room, Blair was pacing and cursing himself for not having been more observant about Jim's injuries. He knew there was blood on Jim's shirt, which was opened to accommodate heavy bandaging in the upper chest area, and there was some blood in his hair, but beyond that, his whole attention had riveted on those beautiful blue eyes. 

"I wish I had Jim's hearing right about now," Blair commented, fidgeting and almost bouncing in his chair. Before long, he was up on his feet and pacing. 

"I know about Jim's abilities," Simon clarified for Bill, who looked startled at Blair's statement in front of Jim's captain. 

"For how long?" 

"About three years now. Since they came back--what do you call it, Sandburg? Since his senses 'came online' again?" 

"Yeah." Blair smiled a little, still pacing. 

"He _was_ conscious, right?" Bill asked Blair. 

"He opened his eyes and looked at me. He didn't say anything, but then there wasn't time." 

"Did they arrest the man who shot my son?" Bill pinned Simon with an intent gaze. 

"One of the robbers is dead, the other two are in custody. As soon as I know Jim's all right, I'm heading back in to see how the questioning is going." 

"Who's handling it?" Blair asked, pausing in his pacing. 

"Joel." 

"He'll wring it out of them," Blair said, smiling slightly. 

"Megan's helping." 

"Now I _really_ know they're in for it." 

"You're here for Detective Ellison?" A middle-aged woman with short brown hair dressed in blue scrubs and a white lab coat approached the group. 

All three said something affirmative and were on their feet instantly. 

"I'm Dr. Lawrence. We're getting him prepped for surgery right now. There's a bullet lodged close to his heart. To the best of my knowledge, it hasn't caused any serious damage to his heart or lungs at this point, but the surgery to remove it will be fairly intricate." 

"His head...when I saw him on the gurney, he was bleeding," Blair said, trying not to think too much about the "fairly intricate" part of her explanation. 

"He hit his head on something with a sharp corner, probably when he fell from the gunshot wound. Head wounds always bleed profusely. It wasn't a serious injury. I have to be getting back now." She opened the silver chart she was carrying. "Now I will need the next of kin to sign for the surgery." 

Both Bill and Blair moved forward at the same time. Simon put a restraining hand gently on Bill's arm. 

"Blair is listed on all of Jim's records as his next of kin, Bill." 

"I'm his father," Bill protested. Blair was already signing the form. 

"Could I see him before...?" Blair asked. 

"I'm sorry. He's already en route to the O.R." 

"How intricate _is_ this?" Blair persisted, feeling the cold terror wash over him at the thought that the moment on the gurney was the last time he'd look into Jim's open, living eyes. 

"I'm not going to lie to you. It's definitely a risky procedure. I feel confident we can get the bullet, but it's impossible to offer guarantees in a situation like this one." She smiled slightly. "Mr. Ellison is in excellent condition, his vital signs are strong, considering the circumstances, and we have an excellent surgical team here. We have every reason to be optimistic." 

"Thank you, Doctor," Blair said a bit weakly as she turned and walked down the hall, clipboard in hand. 

"Blair? Why don't you sit down and try to relax. We could be here a while." Simon guided Blair to a chair and Blair plopped into it, hugging himself as if he were chilled. 

"We should have had the chance to get a specialist in here to do a procedure like this instead of some staff doctor," Bill stated irritably. "I know a top flight cardiac surgeon--" 

"Bill, I'm sure Jim is in good hands," Simon objected. 

"How do you know that? Do you know anything about that woman or her background or her track record? How do we know she knows what she's doing?" Bill took over pacing while Blair sat in the chair, silent and still except for an occasional tremor that seemed to pass through his body. 

"We have no reason to believe that she _isn't_ a very fine doctor," Simon countered. "I would think some positive thinking might be a good idea at this point." 

"Positive thinking isn't going to save my son's life! If we've just handed him over to some local quack, we could be signing his death warrant." 

"Stop it!" Blair yelled. "Just stop it!" Blair hugged himself harder, then turned anguished eyes to Simon. "Did I do the wrong thing by signing off on that?" 

"I'd say you took it quite lightly," Bill responded before Simon could open his mouth. 

"How dare you imply that I take anything about Jim's life lightly?" Blair rose out of his chair with an anger that Simon couldn't remember ever seeing in Blair's eyes before. 

"I merely meant that we should have asked more questions, investigated getting an expert in--" 

"He's _bleeding_ , Bill! He could be _dying_ for all we know! How many hours would you suggest we wait until we find a doctor who has a big enough, fancy enough reputation to be suitable to operate on your son?!" Blair demanded. 

"Look, you two, this is a tense situation, but--" 

"With all due respect, Simon, this is between Bill and me," Blair interrupted. "Just for the record, your son _is_ my life. Without him, there's nothing anywhere on this earth that matters even slightly to me. If he dies, I will too, in every way that matters. So don't you ever, ever dare presume to tell me that I take this lightly. That man in there is everything to me. That phenomenally beautiful, gifted man that has lived his entire life feeling like he was some kind of...of _aberration_. And suddenly you walk into our lives and start telling _me_ that I'm not taking all this seriously enough. How dare you?!" 

"Blair, this isn't the time--" 

"No, you're right Simon, it isn't." Blair turned on his heel and started walking briskly down the hall, then finally broke into a full run until he slammed through the doors and disappeared outside. 

"He's upset...worried about Jim. He's going to feel terrible when he calms down," Simon said, looking at Jim's devastated father. 

"I thought...I thought I was making some progress, you know? Getting to know them both." He shook his head. "I just want what's best for my son." 

"I know that. We all do. If we didn't all care as much as we do about Jim, tempers wouldn't be running this high." 

"I should go talk to him." 

"You should probably let him be for a while, let him cool off." 

"I can't leave him with the impression I think he doesn't care about Jim. I just...he's so young, and young people don't always think before they act. Just signing that form without any questions..." Bill shrugged. "Please excuse me." Bill headed for the same exit Blair had taken, only at a much slower pace. 

Blair was sitting at a picnic table situated with a couple of others like it on a little patch of grass in view of the windows of the cafeteria. He didn't hear Bill's approach until the other man sat across from him at the table. 

"I'm sorry about what I said to you in there," Bill began. "I didn't meant to imply that you didn't care about Jim. I just...he's my _son_. And I...sometimes young people haven't had a lot of experience with doctors and hospitals and making decisions like those...I was worried." 

Blair was silent for a long time, not wishing to ignore the older man but also still having only a tenuous hold on his emotions. The last thing he wanted to do was break down and lose it in front of Jim's father. 

"I'm sorry I snapped your head off," Blair said quietly. "I overreacted." 

"Maybe we're both not at our best right now." 

"That's probably an understatement," Blair agreed, smiling slightly. "Do you think I did the wrong thing by signing off on Dr. Lawrence doing the surgery?" Blair looked up at the man across the table. 

"No. Realistically speaking, we didn't have time to consult an expert, or to debate about which surgeon would be best. Maybe that was most of what bothered me--the speed things were moving...there was no time to be sure of anything--even which doctor we were getting." 

"You know, it's weird. I just knew...this morning, I didn't want us to split up for the day. I mean, Jim and I work together a lot of days, but a lot of days we have to part company and go our separate ways and do our own thing...and that's just routine. I know I'm going to see him at night...or maybe at lunch if things go well... But this morning, I didn't want to say good bye." 

"You had a premonition about this?" 

"No. Nothing that specific. Just a case of the jitters, I guess." Blair was quiet a minute, his mind racing crazily back over a panorama of memories and images of Jim, of the two of them together...everything from eating dinner to making love to washing the dishes... "If he isn't okay..." Blair let the sentence trail off, taking in a shaky breath. 

"He has to be," Bill responded with enough firmness in his voice to make it sound like a CEO's directive to an underling. As if Jim simply had no choice but to recover. 

"You really love him, don't you?" Blair asked, seeing the anguish in Jim's father's eye at the mere suggestion that his son might not make it. 

"Funny. I was just thinking the same thing about you." 

"Great minds, huh?" Blair suggested with a slight smile. Bill returned it. 

"Something like that. Think we should get back inside?" 

"Probably. I...I don't want to be unreachable if anything--" 

"You mean _when_ the doctor comes out with a positive update for us," Bill corrected, wagging his finger slightly as he did. 

"Yeah, that's what I meant." Blair smiled a little again and got up, starting back toward the hospital with Jim's father close behind him. 

When they entered the waiting area, Simon approached them immediately. 

"The nurse brought these down--I thought you'd want to hold onto them." Simon handed Blair Jim's watch and his wedding band. Noticing the wave of misery sweeping over Blair's features as his hand closed carefully around the two items, Simon added, "It's routine, Blair. If Jim were having his tonsils out, they'd do the same thing." He rested a hand on Blair's shoulder briefly. "I have to get downtown and see what's happening with the case." Simon waited for a response, but Blair just nodded tightly and continued to stare at Jim's belongings in his partially closed hand. "I'll keep checking in, and you call me if there's any news." 

"We will, Captain Banks," Bill spoke up, seeing that Blair was almost catatonic where he stood. 

"Simon, Bill." 

"Simon," Bill repeated, smiling and nodding a bit. With that, the captain took his leave. 

"I know it's procedure...why does it feel so final?" Blair asked in a choked voice, holding Jim's watch and ring in his closed hand against his heart. 

"I don't know. But I'm glad he handed those to you instead of me," Bill admitted, and Blair's eyes snapped up to make contact Bill's. "I don't think I would have handled it too well." 

"Jim never takes off his ring. And the only times he takes off his watch are for the shower and at bedtime. It just feels weird, standing here in the middle of the day, holding them when he ought to be wearing them." 

"You want some coffee?" 

"That'd probably be good. I can go down to the cafeter--" 

"Just sit down and I'll go get us some. It'll give me something to _do_." Bill headed for the cafeteria while Blair found a chair and slumped in it, still holding the two jewelry items close to his heart. //Jim, dammit, you hang on and stay with me. I'm not gonna make it without you. I came back for you...only you...nothing else. Don't make it all for nothing...// Blair closed his eyes and tried to fight the hot tears that lurked there. 

* * *

After an hour that seemed like an eternity, Megan arrived at the hospital to join them in the fifth floor waiting room where they'd been directed to wait, as the O.R. was on that floor. There were a couple of older women at the other end of the room, and from what Blair had gathered from their hushed conversation, both had husbands in for bypass surgery. 

"Any word yet?" she asked, taking the chair next to Blair. 

"Not yet. Megan, this is Bill Ellison, Jim's dad," Blair introduced. "Bill, this is Megan Conner--she's a detective also." 

"I wish it were under happier circumstances, but it's good to meet you," Megan said, extending a hand past Blair which Bill shook, smiling. 

"Jimmy's mentioned you before." 

"Oh, I'll bet," she said, leaning back in her chair again, smiling. 

"It was positive," Bill assured, returning the smile. "So how does the US compare to Australia? Think you'll be staying on here?" 

"Well, for a while at least. I've enjoyed my experience here immensely, and I've made some very good friends in the short time I've been here," she concluded, directly an affectionate look Blair's way. His only response was a slight upturn of one corner of his mouth. "Sandy, he's going to be all right," she said firmly, resting her hand on Blair's arm. 

"Tell me about the bastard who shot him," Blair said in a low voice. 

"He's charged with attempted murder, armed robbery, and I believe Joel cooked up a couple of weapons charges as well. He's an ex-con, safe-cracker who was working with two accomplices to pull of the robbery. They did the same thing three times successfully back in the late 70's. As soon as the last of them were released from prison, they decided to have another go at it. Jim shot one of them--the man who shot and critically wounded the store clerk. He's dead--the robber, I mean. The clerk is probably going to make it. The third man is charged with armed robbery and assorted weapons charges." 

"So these guys have cooled their heels in jail for almost twenty years, they finally get out, and they do the same thing?" Bill asked, incredulous. 

"Well, in a sense, it isn't too shocking. After 20 years behind bars, they probably thought they'd had enough time to plan the perfect heist." Megan paused. "If Jim had waited for back up, the clerk as well as one or maybe all four of the customers, would have been shot. He took out the shooter at a phenomenal distance and angle through the window of the store, just as he was about to shoot the clerk a second time. How Jim managed it without hitting one of the customers, I'll never know. But he gave up his safe cover to save the others in the store, and it gave Stewart a clear shot at Jim." 

"Stewart?" Bill asked. 

"Jonathan Stewart. The ringleader of this little robbery club." 

"Dr. Lawrence?" Bill spoke before either of the other two saw the doctor approaching them. Immediately, they were all on their feet. 

"The surgery went very well, and we removed the bullet successfully. We did have a rough spot early on with a bit of hemorrhaging, but we stopped the bleeding and got him stabilized. I'm very happy to report that the bullet didn't do any serious damage to the heart or lungs. He's a very lucky man." 

"Is he going to be okay?" Blair asked, twisting Jim's ring where it rested on his ring finger beside his own. 

"My expectation is that he'll make a complete recovery. It'll be a little while before he's ready for active duty again, but barring any unforseen complications, he should be just fine." 

"When can we see him?" Bill asked. 

"He'll be in recovery for a couple of hours, and then transferred to a room in the ICU wing. I want visitors limited to one at a time, family only." 

"Could I just sit with him? I mean, I know you usually limit the times on visits, but if I don't keep him awake or disturb him, could I just sit in the room?" Blair asked, turning his best puppy dog eyes on the doctor. If it worked on Jim, it was worth a shot with someone else. 

"Are you the one he calls 'Chief'?" she asked with a little smile. 

"Yes--did he ask for me?" 

"When he was first brought in, he was conscious for a few moments, and he kept mumbling something I couldn't understand until I took time out to really listen. He said 'I love you, Chief'. I think he'd be very happy to have you sit with him." She smiled at Blair's relieved and happy expression. "But I'm holding you to that promise of not disturbing him too much. I normally would restrict your visiting privileges more than this, but he was very agitated at not being able to talk to you when he was conscious, so I think he'll be more relaxed if you're there." 

"I'll just sit with him. He'll know I'm there." 

"The nurse will come and let you know when you can see him." 

"Thanks, Doctor," Blair responded, and as she left, dropped into a chair and dropped his face in his hands, expelling a pent up breath. 

"I knew he'd pull through. Jim's too tough to let a little nuisance like a bullet keep him down," Megan said cheerfully, sitting next to Blair and running her hand lightly over his back. "You okay, Sandy?" 

"Yeah. Just...when the stress lets loose..." He straightened in his chair a bit and smiled. "Bill, if you want to wait, you can go in first and see Jim--let him know you've been here." 

"I don't want to intrude that way, Blair. I can come back and visit him when he's awake." 

"You wouldn't be intruding. I think it would mean a lot to Jim that you were here...that you stayed and waited through the surgery." 

"Well, if you're sure...I could just step in for a moment." 

"I think that would be a great idea." 

* * *

Two hours after the good news about Jim's surgery, the nurse summoned them to follow her to Jim's room. Blair waited outside while Bill went in first for a brief visit. 

He walked into the room as quietly as he could, letting the door close behind him. Jim was flat on the bed, his skin almost as pale as the bed sheets, IV's in his arm, and a clear, thin tube supplying oxygen was attached to his nose. The monitor near the bed showed the heart having a strong, steady rhythm. 

"I don't think I've actually watched you sleep since you were about five years old," the older man began, a little unsure what to say to Jim, even when he was unconscious. "Blair was nice enough to let me come in and see you first. I...I'm sorry I gave you two a hard time at the outset. I don't understand how it happens...how two men can love each other like that, but I've never seen anyone genuinely love anyone the way he loves you, Jimmy." Bill paused, watching with some frustration as Jim's motionless features remained so. "I was disappointed for you at first, that you didn't have a woman for your partner in life, that things wouldn't be 'normal' for you. I know having my blessing on anything isn't necessary for you...hell, probably isn't even important at this point," he said, smiling a little, with no trace of bitterness in his voice. "But as far as I'm concerned, you two have my blessing. He's a good person, Jimmy, and he'll stand by you the rest of your life. You can't ask more than that from a spouse. God knows, finding a 'nice woman' sure as hell doesn't assure you of that." 

Bill moved a little closer to the bed and hesitantly took a hold of Jim's limp hand where it rested on the mattress. 

"Get better fast, Jimmy." He paused for a long moment, then leaned forward to do something else he couldn't remember doing since Jim was about five years old. He planted a light kiss on his sleeping son's forehead. "I love you, son," he whispered, then with a little squeeze to Jim's hand, retreated back out to the hallway. Blair was waiting patiently a few feet down the hall, reading a brochure he'd picked up off a literature rack. 

"Thanks for letting me go in to see him." 

"You're his father. There's no way I _wouldn't_ want you to go in and see him," Blair responded, smiling. 

"You'll call me if there's any change? When he wakes up?" 

"Sure." 

"Can I bring you anything? Dinner?" 

"Megan went to get me something from the burger place across the street, so I should be okay. I can always look pathetic enough at one of the nurses to get a hand out. But thanks." 

"Call if you need anything--like a ride home. We came with Simon." 

"How're you getting home?" 

"Taxi. Look, you go ahead and get in there with Jimmy." 

"Okay. Thanks for staying today." 

"I was glad to be here." With that, Bill turned and made his way down the hall, then paused, turning to face Blair again. "I'll call Stephen and let him know what's going on. I hope it's all right if he comes by tomorrow." 

"I think Jim would like that," Blair responded, smiling. 

"Good. Goodnight, Blair." 

"Goodnight, Bill." 

* * *

Blair approached Jim's bed, taking in the panorama of medical technology attached to his lover. Knowing that disturbing Jim more than was absolutely necessary was probably not in his recuperating lover's best interest, Blair pulled a chair up near the bed and touched Jim's hand lightly. 

"I'm here, love of my life. Just rest and know I'm with you." Blair kissed the cool hand he'd touched, and then settled in for a long vigil by Jim's bedside. 

* * *

The pain in his chest was oppressive. //Need to dial it down,// he instructed himself, though that was easier said than done. //Okay, focus on something else then. Something pleasant.// Flexing his fingers a bit, something silky tickled them. Silky and familiar. //I'd know that scent, that heartbeat anywhere.// Jim felt a little smile curve his mouth, despite the misery that went with approaching consciousness after stepping into the path of a bullet. 

Summoning all his strength, Jim wiggled his forefinger until he had a curl wrapped around it. //Poor guy's probably just now getting some sleep, hunched over the side of the bed... Wish I could pull him up in here with me...// Jim thought about opening his eyes, but that would mean admitting consciousness to the medical personnel as well. Right now, Blair was sleeping peacefully by his side, and he was too tired to interact with anyone. //Love you, Chief,// he thought silently, letting himself drift, the stray curl still wrapped around his finger, and still trying to make sense of the strange dream he'd had of his father kissing him goodnight. 

* * *

Jim's return to consciousness the morning after his surgery confirmed everyone's suspicions--he was going to make the world's worst patient. Blair stayed by his side through the "grumpy days" even more determinedly, because he understood the origins of Jim's foul mood. Every smell, bright light and unusual noise in the hospital environment annoyed Jim's heightened senses, and between the medication and his own fatigue and pain, he wasn't as well-equipped to dial anything down or cope with the barrage of strange stimuli. The sirens of ambulances approaching the emergency entrance had sliced through his brain like unexpected daggers. 

Blair became his talisman against all of it. The combination of sights, scents, sounds and textures of his lover were the elements Jim focused his senses on most of the time. As long as Blair was nearby, he could screen out much of the constant onslaught. Blair, for his part, patiently tolerated the occasional outburst of temper and sharp-tongued retort as the product of an almost continuous headache, both from the spot where Jim's head had made contact with a bus stop bench when he fell during the shooting, and from his feeble attempts to rein in his overstimulated senses. Jim reminded him of a big, lovable jungle cat with a thorn in its paw; once it was removed, there wouldn't be as much snarling and baring of fangs as there was at the moment. 

"How do you feel?" Blair asked as Jim woke up from a nap on his second full day of what he referred to as his "incarceration". The younger man carefully guided the straw into Jim's mouth so he could get a few swallows of water. 

"Like shit. Same as I did when I dozed off. At least I didn't have any weird dreams this time." 

"When did you have weird dreams?" Blair asked, setting the water aside and taking Jim's hand in both of his as he sat on the edge of the bed. 

"First night I was in here. Man, I had the strangest dream. I was in my old room at home...and this would have had to have been when I was a little kid. And my dad came in and tucked me in and kissed me goodnight." Jim rolled his eyes, then winced at the gesture. 

"Your dad was here. Remember I told you that he waited through the surgery?" 

"Yeah." 

"He came in to see you first--I told him to go ahead, because I was planning on sitting with you, and I thought he might like to have some private time to see you after you came out of surgery. He wasn't in here long, but he was with you a few minutes." 

"He hasn't made it back since I've been conscious." Jim smiled slightly. "Well, that figures." 

"The nurse said he calls at least twice a day for an update on your condition." 

"I'm touched." Jim let out as much of a long breath as he dared. "You know, this isn't anything new. He keeps up appearances, checks in with the desk like the dutiful father...but where the hell is he?" 

"I...I don't know, Jim. I know he was genuinely worried about you." 

"I can see it's tearing him up inside." 

"I could give him a call, let him know you'd like to see him." 

"Like hell you will. The day I ask that man to pencil me into his schedule is the day hell freezes over. I stopped begging for his time when I was a kid. A _young_ kid." 

"Try to calm down, love. I won't call him." Blair stroked Jim's face gently while still keeping a hold of his hand. "Try to relax. When you get tense, it makes everything more painful." 

"Thanks for the news bulletin, Chief." 

"Is the pain bad?" 

"No, I'm enjoying it." 

"Want me to call the nurse and see if we can get you more pain meds?" 

"No." 

"Want me to shut up and stop bugging you?" Blair asked with a little grin. Jim rolled one bloodshot eye over at his partner, and couldn't stop himself from smiling a little in return. 

"That sounds good right now," he said, still retaining the slightly sarcastic edge to his voice. 

"I've got a stack of books from the library I want to read, and some stuff I printed out on victim advocacy programs. I'll just take the load off over here and read a while. If you get bored and want to talk, just let me know." Blair leaned forward and quickly kissed Jim's lips. 

"Blair," Jim reached up and caught a handful of loose curls to hold Blair's face close to his own. "I love you." 

"I love you too." Blair's smile was wide and brilliant, and warmed Jim' s soul. "Just rest. I'm pulling the chair up real close, so just focus on me if you need to blot things out and nap some more." 

* * *

When Bill Ellison arrived at the hospital to visit his son, he found Blair sleeping soundly in the large vinyl chair pulled close to the bed, and Jim also in what he thought was a dead sleep. As he turned to leave, he was startled by Jim's voice. 

"I'm awake," he said softly. 

"I don't want to wake him," Bill nodded toward Blair. The younger man was so deeply asleep that it was doubtful a brass band would disturb him. 

"He's a heavy sleeper," Jim continued, softly. "As long as we keep our voices down, he'll never know the difference." 

"Does he ever go home?" Bill asked, smiling slightly and moving around the side of the bed across from the one beside which Blair slept. 

"Not very often," Jim responded, smiling fondly at his lover, who was indulging in the dead sleep of the truly exhausted. "The noises here get to me. Blair keeps me relaxed and centered." 

"I was going to come by sooner, but I didn't know if you'd be up to visitors." 

"Do you have time to sit down?" Jim motioned toward the straight chair that was sitting, unoccupied, a few feet away. 

"Sure." Bill carefully picked up the chair and moved it closer so he could sit by Jim's bed, and they could continue talking in their hushed tones. 

"Blair said you were here through the surgery. I appreciate that. I wouldn't have wanted him to have to wait alone." 

"You two have a lot of good friends. I'm sure they would have made sure someone was here if I hadn't been. But I wanted to know you were all right." 

"Doctor tells me it was touch and go for a few minutes, but things went well. I'll probably be off work about six weeks, and then chained to a desk for a little while after that." 

"Your friend, Megan...she explained how it happened. You knew you were putting yourself in the line of fire to shoot the gunman." 

"He was going to kill the store clerk, and I didn't have a lot of hopes for the customers, either. Back up was too far away to wait." 

"You could have died." 

"Part of the risk you sign up for with this job." 

"Maybe now you have a reason to be more careful," Bill said, nodding toward Blair, still sleeping in the chair, his peaceful expression unchanged. 

"Blair knows the risks involved in police work. He observes them first hand. He's been in risky situations because of it." 

"When he was sitting there holding onto your wedding ring, he didn't look like he was just going to accept it as a risk of the job." 

"I almost lost him back in May...I've been where he was. It isn't pleasant." 

"He's a good person, Jim." Bill nodded. 

"Thanks, but I already knew that," Jim responded, smiling a little. 

"I wasn't very gracious about your relationship with Blair at the outset. I know that." 

"You were shocked. Blair wasn't angry about your reaction. I tried not to be." 

"But you were." 

"A little. Not surprised, but disappointed." 

"I still don't pretend to understand how two men can..." Bill gestured helplessly with his hands. 

"Be romantically and sexually involved?" Jim supplied helpfully. 

Bill took a deep breath and nodded. 

"But I don't know if I've ever seen anguish on anyone's face equal to what I saw on his when Simon handed him your ring and your watch to keep for you. I guess I'm saying that I don't understand what it is you have with Blair--maybe I never will--but I do know it's real, and...and I know he's a good partner to you. Do you call him a husband, spouse...?" 

"Partner is fine. I don't think I could get used to husband, because in my mind, I seem to think that for every husband, there has to be a wife...and there's no 'husband' or 'wife' in this relationship. Just a partnership of equals." 

"I said a lot of things to you while you were unconscious. Good cop out, huh?" Bill asked, chuckling a little nervously. Jim just smiled slightly. "One of them was that...I know you don't need--hell, you probably don't even _want_ \--my blessing on anything, but if you were to ask me for it on your... _partnership_ with Blair, you'd have it. What I wanted most for my sons was to meet and marry good women. Women who would stand by them, support them--make a lifetime commitment and build a life together." Bill paused, leaving an uneasy silence only broken by the hum of the machines and Blair's steady breathing that bordered on light snoring. "After your mother left, it was... hard to watch a lot of my friends who had lasting marriages, to see the futures they built, the retirements they planned, knowing they were going to have someone to share it all with. I guess I'm trying to say that meeting what appears to be a 'good woman' is no guarantee of anything lasting. I had the ideal situation--a pretty wife, two beautiful kids... and then one day she decided she'd had enough, and all the promises weren't worth two cents. But what you have with Blair...the way he feels about you...he'll stand by you for a lifetime. He even puts up with the obnoxious in-laws gracefully," Bill concluded, smiling. 

"Blair's the best thing that ever happened to me," Jim said softly, looking over at his still-sleeping lover. "He's my life." 

"I'm glad you two found each other then. I know you're going to have a hard road ahead of you. For that I'm sorry--I wish Blair had come in the right package so your life together could be smooth and easy and you didn't have to spend your lives on the receiving end of a lot of funny looks and prejudice. I wanted you to know that while I can't pretend to understand how it happened, or how it works...I know that it _does_ work, and I...accept it." Bill snorted a little laugh. "He's pretty hard to dislike. Believe me, I tried." 

"So did I," Jim admitted, laughing a bit, then wincing at his body's protest. "Laughing or excessive breathing--not a good idea." 

"I should let you rest." 

"I'm glad you came by, Dad," Jim said, still smiling a little. 

"So am I. Look, if you need anything at all, I hope you'll call. I know you don't like me throwing money around and taking over--but if you need anything the insurance doesn't cover...I just hope you'll ask me." 

"Thanks. If I don't, I'm sure Blair will." 

"When Sleeping Beauty over there comes around, tell him two new IBM Pentium 400's and printers are being delivered to his office tomorrow." 

"You found someone who wanted to donate those?" 

"Yeah." Bill nodded, smiling. "Me." 

"Dad--" 

"I needed a tax write off. My accountant tells me every year I need to do more charitable giving. Now I can write a fat check to some overseas mission that sends me address labels in the mail, or I can help the kid out with his project. Either way, I need to unload a few capital gains. Simple as that." 

"Thanks, Dad. I'm sure Blair'll be thrilled with them. This project means everything to him." 

"No." Bill shook his head. "You do, son. But I know it's important to him. Get some rest. Maybe I'll stop in tomorrow, huh?" 

"That sounds good." 

"Good. See you then." 

* * *

"Hey, sleepyhead," Jim greeted affectionately as Blair finally stirred from his slumber almost an hour after the elder Ellison left. 

"Oh, man. How long was I out?" Blair straightened up and massaged his neck. 

"About three hours, I think. Maybe longer--you were asleep when I woke up, but I'm not sure how long I was out." 

"We're a really great pair, aren't we? Our own little zombie club," Blair yawned and put aside the book that had spent the last few hours open on his lap. 

"You needed the sleep, sweetheart. You've been babysitting Oscar the Grouch here for the last two days straight." 

"You'll feel better when you get out of here. The doctor said that could happen as early as the end of the week. I mean, all you're doing here is lying in bed sleeping. You can do that at home. The big obstacle was the steps, but I took care of that." 

"How, exactly, did you take care of that?" Jim asked, a little alarmed. 

"Don't worry, man. I didn't do any permanent damage to the loft. I just got Rafe and Brown to help me move the bed downstairs and clear the half of the living room with the windows and the fireplace for it. Then I bought some really cool partitions at the import shop--oh, man, you're gonna love 'em! Anyway, the bed's set at an angle so you can look out the window, watch TV, watch a crackling fire on a cold fall night, and zap the stereo with your remote--all without leaving the bed. And the partitions are lightweight and mobile enough that we can set them aside when it's just us, and put them in place if somebody comes over and you don't want to be disturbed, or if you're taking a nap. We moved my desk from my old room upstairs, so that way if I need to work on my computer or something while you're sleeping, I won't be right in your way keeping you up." 

"Sounds like heaven. Now if they'll just let me out of this hell hole..." 

"I already told the doctor about all the changes I made in the loft so you don't have to do any steps at all until you're 100% able without risking your recovery. She was pretty pleased with it, so I think you'll be out of here in a couple more days." 

"Probably should see about getting a visiting nurse or something." 

"Why?" Blair looked a little crestfallen as he perched on the edge of Jim's bed. "I can take care of you." 

"What about the victim advocacy unit?" 

"I called Chief Warren yesterday and he was very understanding. He said he expected there'd be a delay given what happened. Jim--you're a hero, man. The way you saved those people. With all that great publicity, he's more than willing to cut me a little slack on the timeline for the project. And even if he wasn't willing--it wouldn't matter. Jim, you know you're more important to me than any project." 

"Yeah, I know that very well, baby. Too well." Jim reached up and stroked Blair's cheek. "My dad came by earlier." 

"When?" Blair frowned, catching Jim's hand and kissing it before holding it in his lap in both of his hands. 

"While you were sleeping." 

"I slept through somebody visiting you? Man, I was _zonked_." 

"He said to tell you that two new Pentium 400's were being delivered to your office tomorrow." 

"What?" Blair's head snapped up so he was looking Jim in the eyes. 

"He said he needed a tax write-off, and he wanted to help. I think it's more the latter than the former, but I think he was afraid you were going to turn it down if it was an outright gift." 

"How do you feel about it?" 

"I feel that if any other rich guy walked in off the street and handed you two new, free computers, you'd be dancing in the street. I think you should take them and put them to good use." 

"I was hoping you'd say that." Blair beamed at the thought of the new equipment. 

"You don't need my permission, sweetheart." 

"I know that, but I wouldn't accept it if you didn't feel okay with the idea. He's _your_ dad." 

"He also gave us his blessing. Not that I was waiting on that or anything, but I thought you'd like to know that you officially passed the in-law test." 

"You're kidding," Blair said, his jaw hanging slightly agape. 

"Nope. He thinks you're a good catch for me. He's right." 

"Wow...I knew we were getting along okay, but I never expected..." Blair smiled broadly again. "Oh, man, that makes me _so_ happy." 

"I don't think he could manage to dislike you, even though he gave it his best shot." 

"I'm glad he's okay with it. I didn't want to be the thing that fucked up your reconciliation with your dad." 

"You probably are the thing making it happen, Blair." Jim drew a hand up and kissed the back of it, holding it against his face. "You could probably use some bed rest, Chief. Why don't you go home for a few hours?" 

"Is it okay if I stay here? You know I won't sleep at home anyway. I sleep better in the chair next to you." 

"When I recover, I'm going to take you to bed and not let you up for air for a week." 

"Promise?" Blair leaned forward so they could share a long kiss. With their noses still touching, Blair said quietly, "I don't want to come this close to losing you again." 

"I know. We'll talk about that too while I'm getting better. I'm sorry you had to go through this, sweetheart." 

"You're the one who was shot," Blair corrected, planting another little kiss on Jim's mouth. 

"I know...but I've been on the other side of this situation--waiting and scared to death. It's no picnic. I can't believe I'm actually listening to something my father said, but he said you might be a reason for me to be more careful now. He might be onto something there. It's damned easy to get in the habit of throwing yourself into the path of speeding bullets when you don't have anything...or any _one_ to miss you if one takes you out." 

"I don't want to ever be the reason you don't do what feels right to you as a cop--but I swear, Jim, if you hadn't pulled through this..." Blair bit his lip and rested his forehead against Jim's. 

"I felt the same way back in May, watching you lying in that hospital bed, not knowing if you'd have all your marbles when you did come to..." Jim smiled as Blair laughed a little. 

"Great choice of words there, Jim." Blair straightened up a bit. 

"I'd have loved you no matter what the future held for you. I hope you know that. I would have still been here for you if, God forbid, you didn't wake up all right." 

"I know that. I feel the same way. You'll always have my heart, Jim. And I'll always be with you, no matter what." 

"Me too, sweetheart." Jim reached up and pulled Blair's head down for another kiss. When they parted, he grinned evilly. "Now, love of my life, how about smuggling a Tony's Meaty Supreme pizza up here for dinner?" 

"Jim." 

"Okay, a cheese and mushroom." 

"Jim," Blair admonished again. 

"Okay, a cheese pizza with no sauce. Work with me here, Chief." 

"If you're a good boy, and eat all the right foods and cooperate with the nurses during your recovery, as soon as you're well, I'll cover my body in all your favorite pizza ingredients and let you have your way with me." 

"You've already got a couple slices of pepperoni, if I recall correctly," Jim observed, rubbing his thumb over a nipple through the coarse fabric of Blair's shirt. 

"Oh, man," Blair protested, grasping the offending hand. "Hold that thought for about six weeks, huh?" 

"Six weeks? God, Blair, give me some marginal reason to live here. Two weeks." 

"Five weeks," Blair countered. 

"Ugh." Jim rolled his eyes. "Three." 

"How about when the doctor says it's okay?" 

"Killjoy," Jim retorted, grinning. 

"That doesn't mean we can't have some romantic evenings in front of the fireplace, or that we can't watch a horror movie marathon on Halloween--you might not be carving this year, but you still have to be the design consultant for the jack-o-lanterns." 

"I get a title and everything, huh?" 

"Yup." 

"We could go up to the cabin." 

"No. Too far from the hospital in case you needed anything. Trust me, Jim. The loft is going to be like our own little paradise." 

"It isn't _like_ it, Blair. It _is_. As long as I've got you." 

"You'll always have me. In sickness and in health, remember?" 

"Hey, you have to put that ring back on me." 

"What about when you go for x-rays?" Blair was already fishing the chain that hung around his neck out from under his shirt. Jim's wedding band was securely hung from it. 

"I figure you'll just have to keep putting it back on me, and I can keep stockpiling wedding nights to go with every time you do it." 

"I'll love you forever, Jim," Blair said quietly, pushing the ring back into place again. 

"And then some," Jim added, pulling Blair in for a kiss to seal the vow. 

End of this round...stay tuned... 


End file.
